Chapter 4 - The Rebirth of the True Designer, the Custody Victory, and the Battle for FreedomThree months after the dramatic morning raid on Caruso Design Group, the corporate landscape of New York fashion had undergone a seismic, permanent transformation.
The old company had been completely liquidated under federal bankruptcy receivership to pay off investors, settle tax debts, and return stolen royalties. Dominic Caruso was currently sitting in a federal holding facility awaiting trial on multiple felony counts of fraud and embezzlement, facing up to fifteen years in federal prison. Vanessa Moretti had vanished entirely from Manhattan society, her social media accounts deleted, her luxury Tribeca apartment repossessed by the bank after it was revealed she was nothing more than a paid accomplice in Dominic’s corporate shell games.
And I? I was finally, unequivocally free.
Sitting in my brand-new, sunlit corner office on the top floor of the newly established Vance Haute Couture flagship building on Fifth Avenue, I smoothed down the lapel of my crisp white designer blazer and smiled softly at the sketches spread out across my drafting table.
This time, my name was printed boldly, proudly at the bottom of every single page. Eleanor Vance. No hyphens. No hidden partners. No stolen credit.
The custody battle for Eli had been swift and absolute. Armed with documented proof of domestic abuse, the public assault at the gala, and Dominic’s impending federal prison sentence, family court judges granted me sole legal and physical custody of my son within twenty minutes of our first hearing.
Eli was thriving. The dark circles under his eyes had vanished, replaced by the bright, joyful laughter of a six-year-old boy who spent his afternoons drawing colorful superhero sketches in his mother’s design studio while waiting for his favorite after-school snacks.
My phone chimed, breaking my peaceful concentration.
It was a text message from Marcus, my lead corporate attorney and head of the newly formed executive board of Vance Couture.
“Nora, the Vogue cover shoot layout for the winter bridal collection has been finalized. The issue hits newsstands nationwide tomorrow morning. Advance pre-orders have already broken industry records. You did it.”
A deep, profound wave of peace washed over me. I looked up from my desk just as the office door pushed open with a soft click.
Eli bounded into the room, his school backpack slung haphazardly over one shoulder, holding up a fresh drawing of a rocket ship with glowing orange flames.
"Mommy! Look! I designed a spaceship that can fly all the way to the moon without stopping!" he exclaimed proudly, running up to my chair.
I scooped him up into my lap, burying my face in his soft hair, breathing in the scent of playground dust and apple juice.
"That is the most brilliant spaceship design I have ever seen in my entire life, captain," I laughed, kissing his cheek. "Do you think we should put your name right here in big, bold letters so the whole world knows who made it?"
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"Yes! Because it's mine!" Eli declared fiercely, throwing his little arms up in the air.
"That's right, sweetheart," I whispered softly, looking out the massive glass window toward the bright, endless horizon of the Manhattan sky where the sun was shining brighter than ever before. "Always put your name on your own work. No one can ever take it away from you."
